


4. Snow

by Amorette



Series: Ten Things That Never Happened to Willie Loomis [4]
Category: Dark Shadows - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-16 04:21:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12335385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amorette/pseuds/Amorette
Summary: Sometimes, having a friend with super powers is cool. Literally. Very cool.





	4. Snow

**Author's Note:**

> Idea number four. Sort of. Changed a lot as I wrote it.

10 THINGS THAT NEVER HAPPENED TO WILLIE LOOMIS  
4\. SNOW  


Willie grabbed a last load of wood, shivering as the wind cut through even his heavy sweater and wool pea coat. He could smell the storm on the wind as well as feel it and knew it was going to be a bad one. The low grey clouds had been spitting snow all day but now, as the short day faded to twilight, the snow was getting serious.  


He shoved the kitchen door shut with his hip as he entered the kitchen. When the Old House had been new, the kitchen’s standard equipment included an enormous open hearth. At some point, a large cast iron stove with multiple ovens, warming boxes, water boiler and six spots for pots along the top had been added. It was bigger than one his grandmother had had in her cabin but he recognized enough of it to figure out to heat both the kitchen and his meals. In weather like this, he kept it going all the time.  


In a room down a short hallway was storeroom where Willie stacked the extra wood. He made sure it was nearly full, with barely the space for a small pallet that Barnabas said was the bed for the lowest kitchen servant who had had to keep the fires burning all night. With a sleeping bag bought at the Army Surplus Store in Bangor, Willie slept on it, in front of the stove, when the nights were really bitter. He looked at it, wondering if he would need it tonight.  


For now, he made he a trip through the house, making sure the shutters were closed in the multitude of empty rooms. If any drapes were left, they were pulled over the shutters. The fireplace dampers were shut and, in some cases, old pieces of furniture were shoved in front of the fireboxes to cut the draft. Doors were pulled as tightly shut as Willie could manage. Dozens of servants might have kept this mouldering pile from freezing generations ago but now the best Willie could do was keep the kitchen warm, the front parlor and library less than bitterly cold, and his bedroom almost tolerable, if he piled on wool blankets and slept in long underwear under flannel pajamas with wool socks on his feet and a cap on his head.  


He was back in the kitchen, hanging the canvas and leather sling he used to carry wood in the house, when someone knocked at the door. He jumped, his eye turning immediately to the clock on the wall. It wasn’t very accurate but at it’s worst, it indicated it should be half an hour before Barnabas rose from his coffin in the cellar.  


Cautiously, Willie cracked the door open and saw, to his astonishment, Mrs. Johnson, the housekeeper at Collinwood, clutching a scarf and coat at her throat.  


“Is David here?” She asked, her voice frantic, as her eyes darted around the dimly lit kitchen.  


“No.”  


Willie tried to shut the door but she pushed her way in.  


“Are you sure. He left Collinwood over an hour ago. He might be hiding here.”  


“I just went through the whole house to make sure all the shutters are closed and everything is sealed up against the nor’easter blowing in.  


Her eyes darted around nervously again. “Did you check the cellar?”  


“It’s locked. Barnabas is very careful with the key.”  


Mrs. Johnson bit her lip. “I know this is a lot to ask but could you go to Eagle Hill Cemetery and look for him?”  


“In this weather?”  


“If he’s out in it. . .”  


“Fine.” Willie sat down, pulling on the boots he had been wearing outside earlier and had left by the stove. He wore heavy wool slippers in the house to protect the floors. “Give me a few minutes get to my coat on.”  


“And Mr. Collins?”  


Willie resisted the urge to say, “He’s down in his coffin and can’t be of much help.” Instead, he said “I think he’s upstairs getting dressed. I’ll tell him before I leave.”  


“Thank you, Willie. I’m really worried.”  


“Yeah. Dumb kid. You go back to Collinwood. I’ll go up to the cemetery.”  


Mrs. Johnson nodded and left, pulling the door tightly shut behind her.  


“What is it with this family and fucking cemeteries?” muttered Willie under his breath as he laced up his boots. Before putting on his coat, he got a notebook from a shelf and a pencil. Barnabas liked to be kept informed on his servant’s activities.  


“Mrs. J. came from the big house before 4,” scrawled Willie. “David is missing again. I am going to Eagle Hill to look.” And give the kid a good smack if I find him, he thought.  


He pulled on his coat, scarf, hat, heavy mittens and then got the policeman’s flashlight he hid in the storeroom with the wood. Barnabas could see in the dark but Willie couldn’t and it would be full dark before he got to the cemetery.  


At least the wind was at his back as Willie trudged through the snow on his way to the cemetery but it was going to be unpleasant coming back. He started out swearing with every breath but it was too cold and too much work to keep it up so he fell silent as he followed the path through the woods. Sadly, he was very familiar with the path to the cemetery and there were markers, a tree stump here, a pile of rocks there, that kept him on the path. The trees were thick enough that the ground only had a few inches of snow on it, rather than the foot or more it had away from the shelter of the trees.  


Once his flashlight picked out the tottering fence, he pulled the scarf back from his mouth and shouted. “David. David, answer me!”  


He could imagine the little shit hiding from him most of the time, since David loathed Willie and the feeling was mutual, but this weather was seriously dangerous and if that dumb kid was out in it, frostbite would be the least of his worries. He couldn’t imagine David not wanting help home in this blizzard.  


“DAVID COLLINS!” Willie shoved the gate open, shining his flashlight to see if there were footprints. If there had been, the heavily falling snow was obscuring them. The stupid kid might be in the mausoleum with the secret room to get out of the wind and snow but it would be cold in there. Cold as the tomb, thought Willie grimly.  


“DAVID!” Two minutes thought Willie, scanning the cemetery with the beam of his flashlight. Two minutes and then the kid could freeze out here for all Willie cared.  


“Help!”  


“Oh, shit.” Willie said it out loud before raising his voice. “IS THAT YOU, DAVID?”  


“Over here!” The boy’s voice was weak and shaky. Willie shone the light around the cemetery, catching a glimpse of a waving mittened hand behind one of the larger stones. Willie had to step carefully through the heavily piling up snow because he knew the ground was uneven and scattered with stones and sticks.  


“What the hell,” was all Willie managed to get out before he got a good look at David’s face. He was wearing a scarf wrapped around his head but the tip of his nose was white and his face was streaked with frozen tears.  


“I fell,” the boy gasped. “Something gave way and I’m stuck under it.” He was shaking, both from fear and cold and Willie was surprised to find himself feeling sorry for the little bastard.  


“Jesus Christ,” Willie muttered under his breath. The kid’s ankle looked as if it were caught under something, probably a chunk of granite from an old gravestone. He managed to lift it enough so he could help David pull it out. As Willie pulled, the boy cried out in pain.  


“Shit.” Willie had an extensive vocabulary of curse words and he was pretty sure he was going to run through them all.  


“It’s broken,” the boy sobbed. “Get help.”  


“Shut up! I have to think!” It was nearly two miles to the big house and it would take considerable time in this storm to get there and then get help back to David. 

Kid would probably freeze to death before that and Willie knew who would be blamed. Barnabas would not be happy.  


Willie looked around frantically, trying to remember his first aid classes from his days in the Merchant Marine. There were never actually qualified doctors on the ships he served on so everybody learned as much as they could.  


“It’s probably just sprained,” said Willie, lying. He stepped over to a tree and broke off two fairly straight branches. “I’ll put a splint on it just in case.”  


“Should I take my boot off?”  


Kid was an idiot, thought Willie. “Hell, no. It will swell up and you wouldn’t be able to get the boot back on. Now hold still. Here, hold the flashlight.”  


The only thing Willie had to hold the sticks in place was his own scarf. He muttered a few more curses and as he unwound it, exposing his face to the biting wind. He quickly wrapped the boy’s ankle with the sticks and the scarf. David only made a few weak sounds, obviously trying to be brave.  


When he had tightened the scarf as best he could, he said, “I’ll carry you back to Old House. Everybody is out looking for you so, with luck, someone will find us before I have to carry you all the way.”  


Willie turned his back to David and told the boy to climb on. He was not carrying the boy like a fainting lady all the way back to the house, even if having the kid in front would break the worst of the wind.  


The flashlight was fading. Willie knew the batteries would soon give out in the cold so he stuffed the handle between the buttons of his coat. It pointed a weak beam in the wrong direction but it was better than nothing.  


“Hold on,” said Willie as he lurched to his feet. “Not that tight!” Damned kid was going to strangle him.  


“I’m sorry,” sobbed David into Willie’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean to get stuck out here.”  


“Yeah, yeah, nobody leaves thinking I think I’ll go do something stupid that might get me killed but everybody does it anyway.”  


Including deciding grave robbing was a great career move.  


Willie bent his head so the top of his woolen watch cap got the worst of the snow and wind and started pushing his way through the snow. It only took a few steps for him to know the odds were seriously against both of them making it back to shelter before they froze to death. He thought, briefly, about dropping the boy, but he wasn’t that cruel. With a few last muttered obscenities under his breath, he started walking towards what he hoped was the shortest distance to the Old House.  


‘Barnabas,’ thought Willie, ‘I know you can sometimes think to me so I am thinking to you. Help. Major help.’ A sharp gust nearly pushed Willie over. ‘You owe me, you blood-sucking bastard. And there will nobody to fetch and carry if I freeze out here, so get your sorry dead ass in motion.’  


“Willie?”  


Of course, thought Willie, as he turned his head slightly so he could see his master, little more than a broad black outline against the blizzard. “You heard me?” 

“Very clearly.”  


He felt Barnabas lift David off his back. The boy moaned. He thought Barnabas would carry David but was surprised when the vampire thrust the boy into Willie’s arms, dislodging the flashlight so it fell to the ground and immediately went out.  


“You’re stronger,” Willie started to say when he felt the heavy weight of Barnabas caped coat dropped over his shoulders. He wasn’t sure if Barnabas spoke the words out loud but Willie heard, clearly, “You’re warmer.”  


Shared body heat. Something the dead were lacking. Barnabas wrapped his coat around Willie and David, carefully folding one portion of the cape over the boy’s head. His eyes were closed but should he open them, David might notice his cousin standing with neither coat nor hat in the middle of a January blizzard.  


“Ready?” Again, Willie wasn’t sure if the words were spoken out loud or only in his head but he yelped with surprise as Barnabas swept Willie and David up into the vampire’s arms as easily as if they were a delicate fainting lady. It was awkward and Barnabas was definitely having some difficulty holding both man and boy, wrapped in the heavy coat, but he started plowing determinedly through the snow. Willie just held onto to David, who was shivering, which Willie was sure was a good sign, and kept his head down.  


Barnabas wasn’t running through the snow. There were apparently limits, especially since Willie realized Barnabas was probably wearing his usual elegant leather shoes. But they were still moving faster than Willie could have done, and at a slightly different angle. Barnabas was adding the extra distance to Collinwood.  


Willie hung on to David, hoping desperately that Barnabas wouldn’t stumble and drop all of them into a heap in the snow.  


Almost there.  


Again, Willie didn’t know if Barnabas spoke the words but Willie heard them.  


“Put me down.” Willie said that out loud.  


“What?” Barnabas was definitely speaking out loud because he sounded really annoyed.  


“You can’t walk up to the house with no coat.”  


Willie sensed Barnabas’ surprise. His master had forgotten how it would look but Willie hadn’t. A few steps from the door, Barnabas set Willie down.  


“Put the coat on,” Willie found himself commanding Barnabas. “Or everyone will wonder.”  


Barnabas brushed the snow off his shoulders and tossed his coat quickly on, moving so fast that Willie’s legs didn’t have a chance to give out. With an arm like a cold iron bar across his back, Willie was shoved towards the door.  


“Open up,” shouted Barnabas, adding more than just normal volume to his commanding voice. Willie almost obeyed the command himself, but David’s tight grip on his pea coat saved them.  


The door swung open and Mrs. Johnson shouted, “They’re here.”  


Everyone was in the foyer as Willie staggered inside, Roger snatching his son immediately.  


“Ankle’s hurt,” Willie gasped, aware that Barnabas was the only thing keeping him on his feet. “David.”  


There was more commotion, more people, and Willie heard Mrs. Johnson telephoning for the ambulance, although whether it could make it through the storm was doubtful. Too bad Julia Hoffman was off at Windcliff for a few days. Willie had gotten used to having a doctor on call.  


He was vaguely aware that Barnabas was half-carrying him, half-dragging him, into a chair in front of a roaring fire. Someone pulled his coat off and wrapped a warmed blanket around him. He blinked in surprise as he realized Barnabas was kneeling at his feet, unlacing Willie’s boots and pulling them off.  


Barnabas was talking, telling Roger how Barnabas had set out from the Old House only a few minutes behind Willie and was able to help Willie carry David back. Willie heard Roger thanking him, Willie Loomis, which was as astonishing as Barnabas pulling off his boots and then wrapping a warmed towel Mrs. Johnson had ready around Willie’s feet.  


Barnabas rose, handing Willie’s snow-covered boots to someone. Willie could see that Barnabas’ legs were soaked from the knees down and those fancy leather ankle boots of his were probably ruined. Barnabas kept refusing assistance until Roger finally forced a pair of carpet slippers into Barnabas hands. Willie would have laughed if he had the strength as he watched Barnabas take off his shoes and put his feet, wet socks and all, into Roger’s burgundy slippers with the gold and black tassels on the instep.  


“Sheriff is coming up in the truck,” Mrs. Johnson was saying, “And will have two of the firemen with first aid training.”  


Willie could hear David crying and apologizing and explaining he was looking for mistletoe or something. Willie just sank back into the chair and the warm blanket and closed his eyes. Cold was draining. He remember someone telling him that on his first trip into the North Atlantic. Suck the life right out of you, the old sailor had said. Makes your muscles weak and even if you were warm a few minutes before, a good cold, wet wind can freeze you to your bones in a matter of minutes.  


Not for the first time, Willie wished Jason had known some rich old widow in Florida rather than Maine.  


“Willie?” Willie opened his eyes, surprised to find Carolyn Stoddard in front of him, a mug of something that steamed in her hands. “Here. Mother made tea.”  


He smiled at her as he took the cup in his shaking hands. He just let the ceramic warm his hands and breathed in the steam for a few second before talking a sip of hot tea. Almost hot enough to burn but he didn’t care at this point.  


He sipped the tea, oblivious to anything except getting warm, ignoring the voices around him until he heard Barnabas say his name.  


“Willie and I,” Barnabas was saying, “will go back to the Old House and. . .”  


Elizabeth made disapproving noise that made Willie smile into his tea. “Don’t be ridiculous! The blizzard is still going on and you’ll both freeze. You can stay here tonight.”  


Willie could tell that Barnabas was clenching his teeth as he said, as politely as possible, “The Old House is heated with fireplaces and wood stoves. Open flames. If we leave it unattended, there is the danger of fire. And if we don’t prepare the fires properly, they won’t last the night and we will freeze to death only in our own beds.”  


Willie laughed. Poor Barnabas. He spent 150 years in his coffin, through the heat of summer and the cold of winter, and it didn’t matter to him. Keeping his house standing, though, that was important.  


“Where are my boots?” asked Willie, setting his empty mug on the hearth. He stood up, letting the blanket fall back into the chair. “Barnabas is right. We’ll be fine. Won’t we?” 

He smiled at his employer and master, who managed a tight-lipped grimace in return.  


Elizabeth kept protesting ineffectually while Willie laced up his boots and Barnabas pulled on his. The leather was ruined and Willie was quite sure they would be disposed of as soon as possible. Elizabeth followed them to the door, wringing her hands and insisting they stay the night but Barnabas was determined, for reasons only he and Willie knew, to head back out into the cold. After a final, firm assurance from Barnabas to Elizabeth that they would be fine, Willie stepped out the front door and turned quickly to put the wind at his back and started for the Old House.  


“Wait.”  


Willie felt the weight of Barnabas’ coat drop around his shoulders again. It was heavy and dragged in the snow, but Willie pulled it around himself just the same. Barnabas moved in front of Willie to break a path through more than a foot of snow. It was very strange, watching a man walk through a gawdawful blizzard in just his ordinary suit, the snow settling heavily on his shoulders and head. He walked fast and Willie had trouble keeping up.  


“HEY!” cried Willie, “Slow down. Ordinary mortal here.”  


Barnabas turned sharply. Willie couldn’t see his face but Willie could imagine the expression.  


To his surprise, Barnabas said, “Sorry. Did you need help?”  


Willie stared at Barnabas a moment before he managed to say, “You’re not angry?”  


“Why should I be angry?”  


“Well, in getting your attention, I may have used. . .”  


To Willie’s astonishment, Barnabas actually laughed. A soft, genuinely amused laugh, unlike his usual harsh, haughty tone. “The language was a bit strong but you needed to catch my attention and you did.” Barnabas paused. “You could have abandoned David and made it back on your own but you didn’t. Thank you.”  


“Hey, I don’t like the kid but I couldn’t have left him.”  


“No.” Barnabas turned and started walking away again. “You’re not a killer like me.”  


“HEY!” Willie sprinted to catch up with the vampire. “Dr. Hoffman will get that fixed. She did before. She just needs to tweak something. That’s what she said.”  


Barnabas slowed but kept walking. “I hope you’re right, but that doesn’t change what I’ve been and what I am.”  


“If you were just an ordinary guy, tonight, David and I would have been found frozen to death in a day or two. So, yeah, the whole blood-sucking thing sucks but your abilities can help. I mean, if it weren’t for me, you could just disappear from Collinwood and re-appear at the Old House without worrying about the weather. That’s how you found us, wasn’t it. That fading away thing.”  


“Yes. That’s how I found you.”  


“And you got us back faster than other people could have, right?”  


Barnabas stopped again. “You do realize you are explaining to me why being one of the undead is a good thing.”  


Willie stopped, his mouth moving without any words coming out.  


“You’ll freeze here,” said Barnabas, putting his arm around Wille’s shoulder to push him forward, “if we don’t keep going.”  


By the time they reached the front doors and Barnabas was able to wrench them open despite the snow piled in front of them, Willie had managed to catch hold of some of his thoughts.  


“It is weird,” he was saying as he stood, shivering, in front of the fire, Barnabas’ Inverness still wrapped around him. Barnabas was kneeling, adding logs to the fire to the point Willie stepped back and hoped the chimney lining was up to it. “I mean, you sort of have super powers.”  


Barnabas looked up at Willie, puzzled. “Sometimes you make no sense at all.”  


“I’m just saying it would handy if you keep the super powers without having to put up with the downside, you know, fly and vanish and not freeze, but not have to . . .”  


Barnabas stood up, dusting off his knees. “Spend the day in a coffin as a corpse and seek blood to survive. Yes, those are downsides. I’ve never heard that term before but I think I understand it.” Barnabas lifted the coat off Willie’s shoulders. “And now if you’ll excuse me. . .”  


“Wait!” Willie grabbed Barnabas by the wrist. “I doubt if anyone will be out in this so you could, you know. . .from me.” 

Barnabas eyebrows vanished under his bangs, his expression moving beyond puzzled. “Are you aware of what you’re saying?”  


“Yeah.” Willie took a deep breath. “I owe you. It’s been quite a day. Roger Collins said thank you to me and meant it and I want to thank you. I might not have made it back, even if I had left David out there.”  


Barnabas’ hand pushed Willie down into one of the two chairs that were set before the hearth, the one Barnabas rarely used. He then sat down in his chair and leaned forward, hands clasped in front of him, almost as if in prayer. “You are offering your blood to me.”  


Willie nodded, starting to work his way out of his coat. “Look, in three years I’ve been here, I’ve figured out the difference between the vampire and you. I don’t like the vampire, but you’re okay. Usually. I mean, you’re kind of stuck up and all, but you’re not evil.” He ended the last word as if it were a question.  


Barnabas sat back. “I try not to be. It’s difficult. I spend 150 years convincing myself that having, how did you put it? super powers, made up for the rest, but I didn’t manage. Not really.”  


Willie dropped his coat on the floor and started working on the buttons on his shirt cuff under his sweater. “I mean, if you do it the way you did it the first time, from the wrist. The neck is too . . . “  


“Intimate?” Barnabas tried to repress a smile and failed, smiling even more broadly at the look on Willie’s face. “It is very intimate, you know. Even pleasurable, if I want it to be.”  


“Oh, don’t say that.” Willie shook his head. “You have no idea how long it’s been.”  


“Actually, I do. And I shouldn’t tease you. I was young once, too.”  


“Ewww.” Willie extended his left arm, his sleeve pushed up to his elbow. He turned his head away and closed his eyes tightly. “Just don’t get carried away, okay? I mean, I’m already stuck here so you don’t have. . .”  


Barnabas’ deep voice concealed a gentle laugh. “I’ll try to be quick.”  


Willie’s drew his breath in a sharp hiss as he felt the fangs puncture his skin. They weren’t needle sharp and that hurt. He felt Barnabas’ lips on his arm and he tried very hard not to think about how soft those lips were and how Barnabas said it could be pleasurable. Willie had seen Barnabas take enough women to know the vampire was telling the truth. The women in his embrace definitely enjoyed it. Willie concentrated on the burn and suck, ignoring the way some parts of him, which had been terribly neglected of late, did respond.  


He found himself thinking very hard about everything he didn’t find pleasurable until his head was spinning a little and he heard Barnabas say, his voice sounding distant, “There.”  


Willie blinked stupidly as Barnabas neatly tied a white linen handkerchief around the wounds in Willie’s wrist. He knew they would be completely healed by this time tomorrow but right now, his whole arm hurt, and he pulled it against his chest protectively.  


“Are you all right?” Barnabas was pressing a glass into Willie’s undamaged hand. “I did try to restrain myself.”  


Willie nodded, taking a sip and feeling the warm burn of Barnabas’ good brandy. “Give me a second.” He finished the drink, then let Barnabas help him to his feet. He shook his head sharply against the dizziness.  


“I’ll give you hand upstairs, then I’m going back to Collinwood to see if they have heard anything.”  


“I”ll be fine.” Willie then preceded to trip over his own coat and fall against Barnabas. “Damn.” He pushed himself away and looked up at Barnabas. “You shouldn’t go back to the big house. Nobody normal would go out in this storm again and Liz will try really hard to keep you there.”  


Barnabas reply was sharp. “I want to find out about David. Know he’s all right.”  


“He’ll be fine.” Willie found the single glass of brandy effected him, tired and drained as he was, more than he expected. He had to watch his tongue carefully. “I think his ankle is broken but he’ll be fine.”  


“You never know,” said Barnabas, his hands on Willie’s shoulders, pushing him towards the stairs. “He might take a cold.”  


“Wait!” Willie spun, staggering and having to be caught by Barnabas again. “He will be fine. Kids don’t die of going out in the cold. They don’t get sick and die like that anymore.” He squinted at Barnabas. “They have penicillin and drugs now. David will be fine.”  


Barnabas looked down at Willie, the corner of his mouth turned up slightly. “We have gotten to know each very well these last few years.”  


“Yeah.” Willie found himself leaning his forehead against his employer’s broad chest, suddenly very tired. “Even at your worst, you felt bad about that. I used to remember that, when the vampire was being to horrible to me, beating me, that you couldn’t be all bad because of how you felt about that poor little girl.”  


Willie made a vague effort to escape as Barnabas scooped Willie up in the vampire’s arms like a sleepy child but the truth was, Willie knew he couldn’t make it up three flights of stairs in his current condition.  


Having fed, Barnabas no longer felt like a block of ice, but he still felt, to Willie, quite a bit stiffer and harder than normal humans. His heart beat very slowly, as near as Willie could tell, and he wasn’t bothering to breathe since he wasn’t talking.  


Funny, thought Willie, as Barnabas deposited on Willie’s bed and went to build up the fire, I used to be utterly terrified of him. Now I almost like him.  


“Your night clothes,” said Barnabas, dropping a pile of pajamas, socks, thermal underwear and Willie’s lighter weight watch cap on top of Willie. “Sleep well."  


Willie didn’t bother to change, He just sort of wrapped himself up in the whole mess and went to sleep.

 

 

Willie was kneeling in front of the stove in the kitchen, carefully shifting the coals in the firebox so he could warm his dinner, when he heard the cellar door open and close. Barnabas entered the room, bringing a cold draft with him. He couldn’t help it, thought Willie, he probably doesn’t even notice it.  


“I went over to Collinwood,” Willie said as he stood up, shifting his pan over the coals he had arranged. He was heating a can of stew. Mrs. Johnson had fed him lunch earlier, but he had declined her offer of dinner. He had eaten her pot roast before. How anyone could dry out a decent piece of meat like that was beyond him. 

Even he was a better cook, if only because he stuck close to the stove to keep things from burning. Maybe she’d be a better cook if she had a fire box to tend.  


“And?”  


“Oh, right. David is fine. He broke his ankle and they put a cast on it.” He stirred the stew. “You know what that is.”  


“Yes.”  


“Anyway, he is home and being so obnoxious, Carolyn told me she wished I had let him freeze to death.” Willie grinned. “She didn’t mean it but the doctors put him in a wheelchair for a week or so since they knew he would abuse crutches and try to put weight on it too soon. I’m told one of the fireman even complimented my splint and I got my scarf back, freshly washed.”  


Barnabas smiled back. “So, everything’s right with the world, so to speak.”  


“Well, as right as it gets around here. Oh, Dr. Hoffman called Collinwood and left a message. You really should get a phone put in.”  


“The message?”  


“When the roads are cleared, which should be by tomorrow, she has a new injection try for your allergies.” Willie laughed, shaking his head. “You know, I’m pretty sure everybody at Collinwood has some idea of what you are but as long as you aren’t currently attacking them, they ignore it.”  


“The Collins family,” replied Barnabas, in a voice even drier than Mrs. Johnson’s pot roast, “are masters of self-denial. It’s necessary to survive being a Collins.”  


“Or an employee of the Collins family.” Willie stuck a finger in the stew and decided it was warm enough. He was waiting for Barnabas to leave so he could eat it directly from the pan and save him washing a dish. Willie knew that Barnabas preferred he set himself a place at the table, even if he was eating alone.  


“Or a friend.” Barnabas walked past Willie. “I’m going out. Keep the fires stoked.”  


Willie grinned at Barnabas’ back as the vampire walked through the kitchen door. He made a mock salute with his spoon, then started to eat. 

 

 

October 11, 2017

 

  


**Author's Note:**

> Yeah. Well, it was going somewhere else and then ended up here. Sort of fits in with David Hennessy breaking an ankle. I pretty much ignore when and how Barnabas was a vampire and when he wasn't, since this is all alternate time line sort of stuff.


End file.
